


You've Haunted Me All My Life

by EveryDayBella



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Cuddles, Declarations Of Love, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Nightmares, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, its not even funny anymore, one sided feelings, seriously my boys are idiots, stupid pinning idiots, they are so disturbingly sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3995932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryDayBella/pseuds/EveryDayBella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a basic truth to the universe. Steve Rogers loves Bucky Barnes. </p><p>Steve Rogers has never been able to say a word about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Was feeling uninspiried so I asked (made) Twifey give me prompt. This little bit of pain came from that. Not what I intended at all. LOL
> 
> Title comes from the song of the same name by Death Cab for Cutie.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

**You Have Haunted Me All My Life**

 

 

Steve and Bucky sharing a bed is nothing new. Steve can remember sleeping in the protective circle of Bucky’s arms, warm and safe. It had been necessary then. His frail body wouldn’t keep in heat and Bucky used to burn like a furnace.

****

Steve had thought for sure that would never come back. When Bucky came back to him he was jittery and unsettled. He couldn’t bare contact, always expecting it to be violent and bring pain. Yet he’d craved it as well. The idea of sharing a bed hadn’t crossed Steve’s mind until one night, after Bucky had another one of his thrashing nightmares, the brunette had tentatively asked to sleep in Steve’s bed. It helped with the nightmares, easing him when he could hear someone breathing next him. He never crossed the dividing line of the bed, but Steve would sometimes fall asleep tracing with his eyes the way Bucky’s soft hair brushed his cheeks.

****

So, when Steve was stirred out of his own dreams he didn’t think anything of the weight draped carefully around his chest, the hard lines of something warm along his back, and the warmth hooked around his knees. In the hazy space between dreaming and wake, where anything and everything was possible, he was sheltered and comfortable. Nothing could touch him. His guilts and worries kept at bay. The weight of the world eased from his shoulders and replaced with contentment in the moment.

****

Everything was soft, warm, and safe. It was just so good. So good.

****

Then awareness had to raise its awful head. Of course, there was something wrong here. Why was he so warm, bordering on uncomfortable now that he was aware of it? What was pressing down on his chest? He was laying on something incredibly hard and incredibly uncomfortable. There were these little puffs of air against the back of his neck and something was tickling his cheek.

****

Steve froze, fear and panic fighting through his system. He reminded himself that he’d fallen asleep in the Tower. That nothing would have gotten in without JARVIS alerting them. No matter what these strange sensations were he was fine. He was safe. There was nothing all that wrong.

****

Instructions. Patterns. Steps. He had to sort through his mind and start figuring out what was going to on. He started with what he was laying on, his ribs beginning to protest under the unfamiliar pressure. It felt like he was laying on a lead pipe, hard and unescapable. It never crossed his mind that he could have just gotten up. It was his room, and his bed. There was nothing keeping him there if he didn't want to be there.

****

Using his hand he began searching for whatever he was laying on. He found smooth, hard steel, groves where metal plate met metal plate. Five endings that curled around his fingers when he applied presser.

****

It hits him like he’s been punched in the stomach. It’s Bucky’s metal arm that he’s laying on, Bucky’s metal fingers now wrapped around his own. And that means his other arm is around Steve’s waist, their legs tangled together in the sheets, Bucky’s tiny puffs of breath against the back of his neck. Steve let go of the cool metal and reached up to the spot that has been tickling his face and feels the soft curls of Bucky’s hair.

****

His lungs freeze up, air not getting past them. He’s barely touched Bucky at this point. There was a hug when Bucky showed up on his door step. There’s been tiny motions, a squeeze of his shoulder, briefly petting his hair, but nothing like this. He wants to weep and grips the bed sheets in his fist struggling to contain the emotion rolling through him. Full body contact. Bucky is curled around him shoulder to feet, nose in his neck, arms around him, holding him close. Steve squeezes his eyes shut fighting the urge to push himself back into him, to sink into his warm like it’s 1940 and they’re close just because it's cold.

****

The thing is, for Steve it was never just about needing the warmth. It was always Bucky. Steve liked being Bucky’s arms, liked getting lost in the smell of him, liked those firm muscles under his hand, and his lips so close Steve could dream about leaning up and kissing them. Could fantasize that Bucky wouldn’t pull away in revulsion, but would kiss him back, pull him closer, lick into his mouth, and love him.

****

Steve sucks in a ragged breath, trying not to shake apart and wake up Bucky. It’s Steve’s deepest buried secret and he’s kept it for a almost a century.

****

Steve has always loved Bucky. It’s part of his basic makeup. Steve Rogers loves Bucky Barnes. It sings in his DNA. Stevie loves Buck. Punk loves his jerk. No matter how you say it, it the same. Steve loves Bucky.

****

It used to overwhelm him. It would build so big and tight that he felt he couldn’t breath. It had sent him into asthma attacks. It was his hope that got him through fevers and pneumonia winter after winter. He’d held it close to his weak chest, like some tiny, precious thing. A love that made him do stupid, stupid things, but also gave the courage to be far more than he was to begin with.

****

Steve Rogers loves Bucky Barnes and he’s never been able to say it out loud.

****

Stevie loves Buck and he’s always buried it. He’s always been this wrong, messed up thing. He hasn’t wanted to burden Bucky with his feelings, not then and certainly not now when Bucky was still working out who he was and would be. That didn’t change anything though. Laying in the pleasant curl of Bucky’s arms it's rushes up and overwhelms him. A love so big he feels like he’s going to drown in it. Force and power and the entire universe aren’t enough to gasp this. He’s always, always loved Bucky. Always needed that smile or that word, or that beautiful sparkle in his eyes that spoke of mischief and lazy summer afternoons.

****

Steve chokes on a sob. He just feels so small. It’s not a bad thing, it's been a long time since he felt small. Wrapped up in Bucky’s arms it isn’t not a bad thing and he knows it's fleeting, but just so wonderfully freeing to be held. He’s heart is still heavy, weary, and broken beyond repair, but for just one beautiful moment everything is okay. He loves Bucky and there is nothing wrong with that for the moment.

****

He sinks into Bucky’s sleeping embrace and pretends for the moment that this is normal. That its okay.

****

Because Steve loves Bucky and it breaks his heart that he’ll never be able to admit to it.

******  
**


	2. I Will Make Sure to Keep My Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twifey was unhappy with me that they didn't kiss and I had several people ask for some more so here it is. Hopefully it lives up to expectations. 
> 
> Title comes from the song Distance by Christina Perri.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

**I Will Make Sure to Keep My Distance**

 

 

The nights that it storms are the hardest. Bucky hates the thunder and lighting. Hates the way his brain makes it something it's not. There is no gun fire, the bed he's lying on is too soft to be Hydra's chair, everything is fine. He just wishes he could convinces himself of that.

****

He trembles when another flash of light and a deep roll of thunder breaks through the window. Curling into a ball, burying his face into a pillow, he tries to imagine it all way, imagine himself to a place where he doesn't spook at the slightest sounds or briefest of touches.

****

Well, that's not entirely true. He can handle touch much better than he lets on. More specifically, one person's touch. He just doesn't know how to ask for it.

****

Bucky opens one blue-grey eye to glare at his sleeping partner. Steve is asleep on his back, one hand resting lightly on his stomach, the other unconsciously stretched out toward Bucky. The assassin yearns to slip his own fingers into Steve's and feel that blessedly warm heat against his own cold.

****

Bucky clenches his fists, fighting like he always had. It's wrong using Steve like this. Its not right that Bucky can take that comfort while he's asleep, but not when he's awake. A violation of Steve's privacy that he will hate Bucky for if he ever finds out. So Bucky fights the ice cold burn in his palm, and terror that shakes through him at the next gust of rain, wind,and thunder.

****

He lasts about as long as he always does before he's slipping his fingers inside Steve's, watching as Steve's reflexes hold him back. A sliver of calm seeps through Bucky, not enough to ease away the terror but enough make it background noise for the moment.

****

Bucky buries himself back into his pillow, watching the way his and Steve's fingers match and twist around each other. Steve's clean and pure and Bucky's dirty, and bloodied. He's more than aware that he's a screwed up mess, but he can't force himself away either. He's tried.

****

That how it always was. Bucky has never been good enough for Steve, always wrecking of wrong. Oh he could hide it, could always be the perfect ladies man and he had enjoyed it too, but his heart always rested right there with Steve. It never left, it never wondered. It simply remained. Bucky wouldn't get it back until he was curled around Steve to "to keep him warm."

****

Only it was never just to make sure that Steve survived the night. It was because Bucky's arms felt empty without Steve there to fill them. It wasn't right, and Bucky was wrong, but it was the truth.

****

Bucky knew he loved Steve when he was sixteen, and he pulled Steve out of a fight. The little punk denied that anything was wrong and he was there anyway. Strong, courageous, the goddamn sun held in that tiny body never faded and Bucky knew he loved him. It never changed through war and torture and brainwashing and memory wipes. It was enough to shatter programing and set him free because Bucky loved Steve.

****

Bucky knew the world had changed. Knew that two men loving each other wasn't illegal like it once was. Hell they could get married in the city. The words had been on the tip of his tongue so many times and he'd always chickened out. He'd never been as fearless and courageous as Steve. He loved Steve, but he couldn't risk losing Steve because of his own sick desires.

****

So he had his late night touches, sometimes going so far as to curl around Steve like he was still that skinny little punk who needed him. For just a few moments he could breath and pretend that everything was just like it had always been.

****

Another crash of thunder, a flash of light that bleached out the room before plunging it back into the night, destroyed the calm that Bucky had managed to capture. Once again he was trembling, fighting back a nightmare that he didn't know how to properly forget. Just a shaking wreck of scars and missing memories,sucking harsh ragged breaths, and unable to find his center. Lost, alone, floating in the waves with no idea if his head was even above water.

****

He doesn't even think before he's crawling across the bed, pressing himself into Steve's side, nose nuzzled into the hollow where his neck met clavicle. Carefully wrapping arms around the sleeping man's waist and holding as tight as he can dare.

****

He hates this. He hates that he's weak enough to take advantage like this. He hates that he's weak enough to still do this. He shouldn't curl around Steve's warmth without Steve's permission. It was wrong on so many levels. It felt so good though. He could breath easy, surrounded by Steve, easy protection and comfort. Steve is there and the lighting is powerless. Just light and electricity. Hell, Bucky knows the fucking God of Thunder. He lives upstairs. Everything was okay. It would be okay.

****

Bucky laid there, close enough to hear the sound of Steve's heartbeat, reassuring and steady. Strong. Bucky could get lost in it and forget that there was a storm outside trying to destroy his fragile walls.

****

The rain kept howling, battering the windows, but Bucky is safe, dry, and warm. He'll pull away from Steve after the storm. Go back to his side of the bed and pretend that nothing happened. Just like every other time.

****

He doesn't move soon enough. There's a particularly strong flash of lightning, loud like a cannon shot, and Bucky cowards into Steve's shoulder, trying not to picture old friends dead in the mud and end up sick.

****

He doesn't know if it's the thunder or his sudden movements that do it, but he wakes up Steve. He doesn't move, but his even breath hitched and picked up, his muscles tensing under his his cheek. Bucky closes his eyes tightly, panic threading through him. This was bound to happen. Bucky isn't as stealthy as he likes to think. Steve will push him away in disgust. Bucky won't blame him. He’s disgusting, not worthy of something so pure.

****

"Stay." Bucky mutters hoarsely, frozen in fear. "Please, please don't me leave."

****

"Bucky." Steve sighs, twisting. Bucky tenses, expecting to be hit or pushed. Instead Steve makes room, pulling Bucky closer, looping an arm low across his waist, fingers twisting into his hair petting and soothing. "It's okay. I got you. It's going to be okay, I promise."

****

"Sorry." Bucky refuses to cry. Not anymore. Steve has taken enough of that from him. He can be strong. Then the thunder rolls again and he cringes back into Steve’s chest. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

****

Steve shushes him, rubbing his back and soothing the muscles. "Bucky it's okay. I got you. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Its just the thunder."

****

"You. Sound. Like. My. Ma." Bucky tries to laugh, but it comes out shaky and week.

****

Steve chuckles, fingers raising the good kind of goosebumps on Bucky’s real arm. He wants Steve to stop, its too much, only he doesn't really want Steve to stop. He's always dreamed of staying in Steve's arms, sleeping there safe and contented. He doesn't want it to stop.

****

"She was one of the smartest women I've known."

****

"Ma. You're Mama. Peggy. Natalia." Bucky tries to play along for Steve.

****

"Yeah they are." Bucky feels something soft against forehead and starts. He doesn't dare move and think about what that might have been or why it's lingering. "Bucky, you can wake me up if you need me, okay? Anytime. It doesn't matter."

****

Bucky doesn't answer, doesn't tell him that he could sleep this way every night. He could lose himself in this kind of comfort and be perfectly okay. He wants to say something. Tell Steve thank you and sorry for being such a mess. He curls closer, needy and yearning for more than he knows Steve is willing to give.

****

They listen to the sound of the storm outside and Bucky to the steady thump thump of Steve's heart. As his breathing evens out he sinks into the sheets and Steve's body. Something soft brushes his forehead again,something sweet and gentle, spreading through him. Without thinking Bucky curls closer, throwing a leg over Steve's and an arm over his chest.

****

Fingers find his chin, pulling his face up. In the dark Bucky can barely make out the shape of Steve's face, the bright gleam of his eyes. He can better feel the fingers gently holding his chin, knuckles tracing the curve of his cheek. His heart beats erratically, thundering and broken, begging and pleading. The tension so thick in the air that he can barely breath.

****

He's not prepared for Steve to lean up and kiss him. His soft lips against his own, carefully pushing against his like he is something worth worshiping. Bucky sighs, leaning into Steve, doing the one thing he has always wanted to do, but never has.

****

Kiss Steve Rogers.

****

It lasts for a handful of perfect seconds before Steve is pulling away, putting unwanted distance between them. Bucky whines and tries to follow needing more than he's aware of.

****

"Bucky, I'm sorry." Steve babbles, big hands gripping hard, muscular shoulders. "I didn't mean anything. I mean, I did, but I shouldn't have."

****

"Don't stop." Bucky begs, trying to pull Steve back to him. "Please, please, don't stop. I need."

****

Steve's hand trails up Bucky's neck till its cupping his cheek, leaving a low burning fire in its wake. "Buck. You, I mean, I love you."

****

Shock and thrill fuzzes Bucky's mind, curling his toes. He's not certain that he can believe his ears, that it might just be another lie. It doesn't feel like it, but he can't trust it anyway. "You what?"

****

"I love you, Bucky." Steve whispers, lips close enough that Bucky can feel them brush his own when he speaks in that in trembling voice. "I tried to fight it. I tried to ignore it, but it's always been there. I love you."

****

Bucky grips the back of Steve's neck, pulling him forward into another kiss, firmer and stronger than before. Bucky all but crawls into Steve's lap, pushing himself forward and losing himself there.

****

They break with a wet gasp, panting, chests heaving against each other. Steve's fingers tremble against Bucky's skin.

****

"I love you too." Bucky admits, lips sucking against the skin of Steve's throat. "I do. I do. Always have."

****

While the storm continued to rage outside, inside the the world changes forever. Learning and relearning old rhythm, and the truth behind secrets. Secrets that they thought had kept them safe which had only isolated them.

****

Together they would be stronger than they had ever dreamed. Safe and whole.

****

Welcomed.

****  
Loved.** **


End file.
